Day 7: Deception Pass State Park to Old Fort Townsend State Park

Distance: 32 miles.
Time: 3:09.
Average Speed: 11.8.

I took it easy today, until the point at which I had to get a move on. I spent the morning re-packing my bags and ensuring the bike was running ok, before pedalling along to the end of the road. There was a nice beach with fantastic views west towards the Olympic mountains – and north – back towards Deception Pass. It felt like such a rarity to get the chance to take in some of the beautiful landscapes that I’d been passing through.

Finally, setting off an hour after the campsite checkout time of 1 o’clock, I blazed along the highway. Whidbey Island had a privileged position, sandwiched between the outer reaches of the US mainland, with the Cascade mountains in the east and the Olympic mountains in the west.

My first port of call was the dreary urban sprawl of Oak Harbour, a long chain of fast food stores and supermarkets. The Burger King was passable, however, and T-mobile did furnish me with a shiny new SIM card.

Back on the road, I skirted the edge of a sea inlet on Madrona Way, soon to reach the quaint historic town of Coupeville, where a local mountain biker stopped by to pass on route knowledge and mention his own long-distance cycling exploits.

A short sprint later and I had made my last ferry crossing for a while, the 6 o’clock sailing between Fort Casey and Port Townsend. Another cyclist recommended a pizza place in town, I headed along to find it closed for cleaning, so opted for somewhere else.

It was now half 7, and I had 5 miles to go before reaching camp, at Old Fort Townsend State Park, so, I climbed out of town before – almost inevitably – flying off down a side-road to the campground.

After setting up camp I had time for a walk before nightfall. Returning to camp, I heard ‘Michael is that you’ from a late arrival at the site. It was Tim from New Mexico who I’d met on the ferry from Orcas Island yesterday. He should have been here last night?

It turned out that 5 minutes after I had seen him last, his rear-derailleur had disintegrated, forcing him to go miles off route to find the only bike shop in the vicinity that was open on a Sunday (other than the one I had visited in Orcas Island). So when I was at Deception Pass yesterday, thinking he was miles ahead, he was actually 20 miles back in a completely different direction! He’d done well to make up the distance.

Day 6: Orcas Island – Deception Pass State Park

Distance: 11.83 miles.
Time: 1:49.
Average Speed: 6.5.

I awoke early, to appease stray US law enforcement, and started operation get. bike. fixed. In the cold light of day I found the real antagonist in yesterday’s little drama, a small strand of metal sticking through the roof of the tyre. With inner tube repaired I was confident that I’d be underway in no time. However, relief soon turned to despair, as every time I seated the tyre around the rim of the wheel, another part popped out. Round and round I went, but the tyre would not stay in place.

Prospects weren’t looking great – 200 metres up a mountain, 15 miles from the ferry, and an hour and a half of futile bike maintenance behind me – when a guy in a jeep stopped and asked if I needed a lift, then tried to back out as he had work to get to. Too late. Brian was many things, including a Wellbeing Coach and Stockroom Assistant. From Boston, but moved to Orcas Island from Peru. He was big on experiences, I asked if being stuck half way up a hill with a broken bike on your first day in a new country counted.

That got me back as far as Eastsound. Good start, then Katie a fellow cyclist who just happened to be doing her laundry nearby mentioned that there was a bike shop in town, and that it should be open. I made it 100 yards – pushing the bike – before the tyre had fallen off so far it got stuck in the brakes. I couldn’t carry all the stuff, the only solution was to replace the faulty back tyre with the sound front one, then at least the back of the bike would support my possessions, I just had to keep the front half lifted off the ground. I made it to the bike shop, and he had a tyre that fitted! But I wouldn’t have time to pedal to the ferry so I marched into the hotel and asked if there was any chance they could phone me a taxi. The taxi driver was on his way to the library to play online cards, but arrived to collect me before I’d even got back to my bike.

Frazzled, I sat on the ferry, definitely requiring a rest now. I’m stopping at the first hotel in Anacortes, I thought. Then I got speaking to another couple of cyclists as we waited to leave the boat, one heading down the Pacific Coast and pressing on for Port Townsend that afternoon…

Having finally resurrected my bike to its usual two-wheeled state, I had a dilemma. The weather was perfect, I could just cycle on a little, maybe. At least any distance gained now was distance I didn’t have to cover later: I opted to cycle the 12 miles to Deception Pass. Instantly, I turned a corner and was overlooking a stunning bay, and that was soon followed by the highlight of the trip – so far – when I crossed the spectacular Deception Pass bridge. And when the beautiful State Park campsite had hot showers, my wellbeing was fully restored.

 

 

 

 

Day 5: Salt Spring Island – Orcas Island (Moran State Park)

Distance: 28 miles

It’s been a busy couple of days…

Knowing I had an unpleasant climb to start the day, I was keen to get away early, but, of course, getting away early didn’t happen. When I was packing my stuff I realised a screw was missing from my Pannier Rack and it was rattling around. I checked various other bits too, vital bits like brakes, the gears can wait.

So, it was almost 9, I had 50 minutes to get back along the road from hell. The opening climb went on and on as I tacked across the road to lessen the gradient. It was tortuous and I despaired as my speed dropped under 4 miles an hour. Would I actually be better walking? I pressed on over hill after hill and at long last I managed back along to the ferry, 6.5 miles of torture.

The ferry to Swartz Bay was short and I didn’t hang around long before pressing on to Sidney, from where I would take my next ferry – to America. They reluctantly let me through customs, on to the San Juan Islands I would go.

Arriving in Friday Harbour on the largest Island, San Juan, I deliberated briefly with staying here, it was a very nice town and there was a campsite nearby. And I really needed a rest. But… I’d planned to head to Orcas Island, cycle 15 miles to a campground, then climb a 500m hill, so that’s what I’d do.

Of course Orcas Island was very hilly, and I struggled the 8 miles to the capital, Eastsound. My struggles weren’t helped by a persistent puncture for the last few miles. When I got into town I changed the inner tube assuming it was a dodgy valve, then had dinner. An amazing pizza place called Hogstone Wood Oven. There I also bumped into three girls from Seattle, one who was interested in my trip as she plans to cycle across Canada in the summer.

After dinner, I headed on up towards Moran State Park, the operative word being up. My puncture woes continued, I kept pumping up the wheel but didn’t really have time to stop. Then when I reached the park, I found the campsite was mobbed – except for the primitive sites 5 miles further up the hill – so I really had to sort the wheel. On closer inspection, there was a bit of the wire bead on the inside of the tyre sticking out into the inner tube. No wonder I kept puncturing. So I covered over the wire with tape and pressed on. Then, boom! There was an explosion from the back tyre, so that was the end of that. I hauled my gear up the road and into the trees – just as darkness fell – put up the tent, and fell asleep. With no idea what I would do tomorrow.

Day 4: Rathtrevor Beach – Salt Spring Island

Distance 70.43 miles.
Time: 6:46.
Average Speed: 10.4 mph.

I spent a pleasant evening in another nice British Colombian Provincial Park last night, the distinction with this one being that there were other people using it too. Amongst them were two groups of sea kayakers from Washington State who’d just finished month long expeditions off the coast of Vancouver Island. There was also another cycle tourist, he was a Canadian on his way to the Westernmost point of the Island from where he planned to cycle all the way across Canada. How long would it take? He didn’t know. How far was it? No idea. Had he ever done any cycle touring before? Nope but he would have soon!

Then just as I was preparing to leave I spoke to a guy with a mountain bike and heavily laden trailer. He was heading north, last year to the Yukon, this year who knows. He had sold his Vancouver ‘online cannabis business’ and was now completely unconstrained. He had set off the day before, from Vancouver, with his girlfriend, she had managed the ferry crossing, then pedalled 5 miles before jumping in a taxi, leaving a thousand pound bike by the side of the road. ‘Don’t go to America man, it’s not like here, my mate got 5 years there.’ I’ll be ok cycling though? ‘Have you got a helmet?’ Yes. ‘Why have you got saddlebags, you should get a trailer.’ Are they not quite heavy? ‘You just get off and walk when you get to a hill, you know that cycling and walking are better for you, right?’ Right…

And on with the journey.

It was almost 10 o’clock by the time I set off, then when I did I quickly stopped. To put my seat down and my handlebars up, and pump up my tyres, and have another breakfast bar. Then off along Highway 19 into a headwind. Ugh.

Most of the first 40 miles of the day involved pedalling furiously along the shoulder of Highways 19 and 1, as heavy traffic thundered past. Not my idea of fun. Much more enjoyable were the leisurely detours I made through the peaceful suburbia of Nanaimo and Ladysmith.

Having ploughed along the highway all day, as recommended by the book I’d been using, I opted for one of the ‘non-recommended’ side trips to reach the ferry port at Crofton, and was not surprised at all to find that it was along quiet country roads and through peaceful villages! I once again reached a ferry with not a minute to spare. The 16:55 Salt Spring Island ferry was boarding when I reached Crofton.

After a short ferry ride I made the short journey to Ganges in the middle of the island. It reminded me of Portree and I wished I could stay and explore. But it was now around 6 o’clock and I only had 2.5 hours of daylight, so decided to make for Fulford Harbour, 6 miles from Ruckle Provincial Park where I would finish the day. I was instantly glad I didn’t linger as I hit a 130m climb straight out of Ganges. Worse still the road continued to reascend over and over again finally dropping the height gained in one fell swoop.

A quick Lamb Burger later – at Fulford Harbour – I headed off along the dead end road to Ruckle Provincial Park. Approaching 70 miles for the day my legs were gone and 6 miles felt like an eternity. The final plummet to the sea was devastating – I will need to return that way in the morning, before 10 o’clock if I’m to make my onward ferry to the San Juan Islands. It’s an amazing spot though, so I’ll maybe get over it!

Tomorrow, America.